


I Got a Feline

by lunchtop



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 08:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20240206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunchtop/pseuds/lunchtop
Summary: It was only when Lance heard a soft meow, that he noticed the kittens. The man was holding two of them, one in each hand, while two more climbed his shoulders. Another was pawing at this shoelace.When Lance finally looked up at his neighbor's face, his eyes were full of desperation. “Help?”--Alternatively, the one where Shiro and Lance raise a family of kittens together, and start falling for each other in the process.





	I Got a Feline

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my piece for Hey there, Sharpshooter!, a fluff-themed bang centered around everyone's favorite lover boy. I adore Lance with all my heart, as some of you already know, so naturally, I jumped at the chance to participate in this event. For more Lance fluff, check out the other pieces in the collection!
> 
> The title is a play on the Beatles song "I Got a Feeling", we're really creative over here.
> 
> For this project, I collaborated with Macs, who in addition to being a very talented artist, is a sweet, terrific, lovely human, and I've had a lot of fun chatting with her over the past few months. I really hope the two of us can keep being friends after this. You can check her out [here on twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/arts_holy), on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/holydrawings), and, of course, if you keep on reading, you'll see the lovely piece she made to go along with my fic. Trust me, it's worth it, her art is SO CUTE.
> 
> Unfortunately, because of some personal circumstances that I don't want to get into here, I was unable to completely finish the fic on time. I'm posting the first bit now, and the rest should come soon. Probably in one big chunk, if I had to guess; the ending is actually finished, I just need to get through the middle.

Like every morning, Lance finally got out of bed, after snoozing his four-thirty alarm three or four times. Putting on pants first thing in the morning was always the hardest part of waking up, but once the elastic waistband of his sweats was firmly secured over his hips, the rest was a downhill slide. Brew coffee, brush teeth, wash face, moisturize, put on jacket, pour coffee into mug…

Coffee was the second best part of the morning. Lance loved how the scent slowly spread out across the apartment, reaching the bathroom just as he was finishing up his morning skincare routine. The smell only became stronger when he poured it into his favorite mug - blue, with hand-painted seashells on it, a gift from his sister Rachel - and, never one to deprive himself, Lance always allowed himself to take one long, deep breath to savor it before heading out to the small balcony to enjoy his beverage and finish waking up.

This morning, Lance put on an additional layer, a soft, fuzzy brown jacket, before he settling into the ancient wicker chair he’d found at a thrift store earlier that year. Lance pulled his feet up to sit cross-legged, phone in his lap, waiting...

Lance smiled at the familiar photo that came along with his morning phone call, before sliding his finger across the screen to accept it. He propped his phone up with his shoulder, clutching his coffee mug in both hands to keep them warm. “Hi, Mom.”

This was the best part. It may have been too-early o’clock for Lance, but his mother was just starting her morning commute in Florida, four hours ahead of him.

“Hi, sweetie!” She sounded more lively than usual, at the start of their morning chats. Lance smiled against the phone. “How’s the weather over there? I heard it’s supposed to rain again today."

Lance looked out across the Washington sky. Five o’clock was fast approaching, but he could still make out the clouds in the dim light provided by the streetlamps. “Cold,” he told her, sipping at his coffee to ward off that exact thing. “Kinda cloudy, but it’s still too dark to really see.”

“You didn’t listen to the weather report last night?”

“No, Mom.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Because that’s boring, and if he really wanted to know he could just look at his phone, was the truth, but she never seemed to appreciate that answer. “Just got caught up in other stuff, I guess.”

She sighed, reluctantly accepting that, before launching into the conversation. Updates, how his niece and nephew were doing in school, what was happening in the neighborhood, what his brothers and sisters were up to. Lance listened attentively, waiting for his coffee to kick in, before jumping into his half of the conversation-

And then, there he was.

The handsome, mysterious jogger who ran by Lance’s apartment almost every morning during his phone call with his mother was the third best part of his too-early morning routine; beat out by the coffee only because of the brevity of his appearance. Lance’s eyes locked onto him, following him closely as he ran by, wearing those little grey shorts as if the cold didn’t bother him at all. Even at a distance, Lance could admire his good looks; a strong jaw and a handsome face, a stylish undercut, broad shoulders and chest-

“Lance, honey?” His mom’s voice finally began to register again, as the runner disappeared from Lance’s line of sight. “Are you still there?”

“Huh?”

“Oh my goodness, was it him again?” She sounded almost as excited as Lance was. “The athlete?”

“I don’t know if he’s an athlete,” Lance said, tugging his knees up under his chin. “Just that he likes to run in the morning. He could just be some weirdo health nut.”

“I bet he’s an athlete,” she continued. “Only athletes wake up that early to work out. You should ask him what sport he plays.”

Lance took another sip of his coffee, followed by a larger gulp, when he realized it had already begun to cool off. “I told you before, I don’t actually know him. I just know that he lives in this apartment complex, somewhere. We don’t talk. I just… like to watch him, when he runs by.”

Okay, that was a weird thing to do. An even weirder thing to admit to his mom. But he was still drowsy, and even though he could count the number of seconds he’d spent looking at his mystery man every day on his fingers… There was just something about him, that Lance couldn’t get over. A feeling, some sort of intuition… A crush. A stupid, pointless, impossible crush on a pretty face and strong body that Lance knew next to nothing about, but that he couldn’t shake all the same.

“Well, I think you should talk to him.” It wasn’t the first time she had expressed this opinion, and Lance knew that as long as he kept getting distracted by him mid-conversation, it wouldn’t be the last.

“Mom, I can’t just talk to him-”

“Why not?” She interrupted, and in his mind’s eye Lance could see the exact expression on her face. “You’re a nice, handsome young man! You’ve got a lot to offer! He should be so lucky, to have a guy like you interested in him!”

Lance smiled halfheartedly down at his coffee cup. That was always nice to hear, even if he didn’t always believe it himself. “Yeah, I know.”

“Besides, you’re not getting any younger...”

Lance let her continue, finishing off his first mug of coffee, before retreating inside for the second; after his mystery runner sighting, there was no point in sitting outside in the freezing cold.

\---

“What even is this?”

“It’s a toffee nut mocha,” Lance said, maintaining his proud smile despite the fact that Keith didn’t look like he appreciated the upgrade to his typical drink order. “It’s my new favorite flavor combo. What do you think?”

“It’s too sweet,’ he said, sliding the cup back across the counter, his face still twisted up in displeasure. “And not what I ordered. Again.”

“Dude, I’m just trying to get you to step out of your box a little-”

“I don’t want to step outside of my box!” Keith groaned, tugging on his too-long hair in frustration. “I just want a black coffee. That’s it. Please.”

Lance sighed, depositing his latest masterpiece into the garbage can before preparing Keith his incredibly boring usual; one black coffee. No sugar. No milk. Keith looked smug - too smug, for someone who was about to drink a boring $2 coffee - as he settled into his usual spot at the counter.

So much for finally getting through to him that there’s more to life than the cheapest thing on the menu.

“Man, I was having a good morning, too,” Lance mumbled, falling back to his previous task; washing the milk pitchers. Not exactly exciting, but at least he was free to sulk. “The mystery runner was wearing the grey shorts.”

“What?!” Pidge gasped, hand clutching their heart in mock shock. “Everyone, stop the presses! Lance’s hunky neighbor was wearing the grey shorts!”

He felt his ears burning under his short brown hair. “Listen, if you saw him, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. He’s like… an Adidas.”

Allura seemed to think that was hilarious, so much so that she had to stop her work to get a few laughs out. Pidge only snorted, adjusting their glasses in that smug, I-know-more-than-you way. “You mean an Adonis?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lance shrugged, still not quite sure what was so funny, but not wanting to ask, either, for fear of embarrassing himself further. “Whichever one was the hot one they made all the statues of. Y’know, with his dick out all the time.”

“I’m starting to think he isn’t real.” Allura said, her back still turned as she finished up the specials board. For someone with such an elegant demeanor, her handwriting was terrible. “I’ve been over there dozens of times, and I’ve never seen him.”

“Allura, if I was going to make up a hot neighbor, why wouldn’t I at least talk to him in my lies?”

“... Fair point.”

“Why don’t you?” The fourth voice caught all three of them by surprise. When the baristas turned to look at Keith, who was still sitting at the counter, quiet and forgotten with his coffee. “Talk to him, I mean.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mom. I can’t just talk to him! It’d be weird. No, there’s got to be a meet-cute.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. “A what now?”

“You know!” Lance said, though Keith’s confused expression showed that no, he really didn’t know. “It’s when you meet someone, in a cute sort of way, and the sparks start flying! The _romantic_ sparks.”

“I suppose I could have put that one together on my own.” Keith sighed, and Lance wasn’t sure if that disappointed expression was for his own stupidity, or for Lance. “Well, good luck stalking your neighbor, I guess.”

On another day, Lance might have tried to argue that point (it wasn’t stalking, if the man just happened to run by his apartment every morning!), but he let Keith leave the cafe without so much as a mumbled ‘good riddance’.

\---

The rest of his shift passed slowly, just like the storm above them; rain pelted Lance’s windshield during his entire drive home. When he opened his front door, only to be greeted by a stuffed garbage can, Lance resigned himself to taking out the trash while he was still wet, rather than waiting until later that afternoon to get soaked all over again. He slid on the cold kitchen tiles as he fetched the trash, shutting the door behind him.

Lance looked up at the sky, tugging his hood back up over his head before he carried the overstuffed garbage bag out to the dumpster.

And then, as if Lance’s thoughts had summoned him, when he rounded the corner… there he was.

The mystery runner.

Lance blinked, not quite sure if it was him, at first - he had never seen him this close before. But, despite the chilling rain, the handsome stranger hadn’t bothered to change out of those shorts, which seemed even more sinfully short up close.

But, now that he was up close and personal, the shorts weren’t even what Lance was focused on. Thanks to the rain, the man’s white t-shirt was plastered to his skin, showing off every detail of his muscular chest.

It was only when Lance heard a soft meow, that he noticed the kittens. The man was holding two of them, one in each hand, while two more climbed his shoulders. Another was pawing at this shoelace.

When Lance finally looked up at his neighbor's face, his eyes were full of desperation. “Help?”

**Author's Note:**

> The Adidas/Adonis joke is the funniest thing I'm ever going to write, I might as well retire now.


End file.
